


What's A Little Tongue Between Friends?

by caramelle



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 23:44:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16073864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelle/pseuds/caramelle
Summary: "Hi!" the girl says, her voice unnervingly perky. "Thank you for signing up for our study about different foods and their effects on kissing!"Bellamy blinks, his brain struggling to catch up. "Sorry, I—effects onwhat?"Or, the one where Bellamy and Clarke sign up for a college study for the free food. It turns out to be a bit more than they bargained for.





	What's A Little Tongue Between Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> _BFF prompt: "We signed up for this food study because yay free food! but it turns out that it's about "what food makes a kiss tastier" so basically we'll be eating for free but welp.... we gotta make out platonically"_

 

  
  
  


It starts out as this weird competition, because that's how things usually start with Bellamy and Clarke.

 

Bellamy walks in one day talking about how he and Miller managed to sneak twelve free samples off the popsicle guy in the grocery store three blocks from campus, and then Clarke walks in the next day bragging about how she and Raven wrangled fifteen.

 

The college insurance provider introduces some scheme where bringing in one referral earns students ten bucks each. Clarke brings in sixteen people within a week. Bellamy does _nineteen._

 

They start sporadic competitions to see who can outdo the other in these weird money-making or money-saving schemes. It doesn't always end well—Murphy can testify to that, but if you ask anyone else, it's not like he even _wanted_ to keep that old PlayStation 3 console anyway. But regardless of what items may or may not have been accidentally-on-purpose pawned off or sold, it's kept the group entertained throughout college.

 

This weird game is also why Bellamy and Clarke decide to move in together after college. "Equal opportunity," Clarke says. Since they all had to move out of their dorm upon graduation, they both agree the best way to keep it going was to live in the same apartment.

 

"Both of us need have the same amount of information," Bellamy explains to Miller as they're moving his stuff in. "It's the only way the competition stays fair."

 

" _Information,_ " Miller huffs under the weight of two boxes stacked on top of each other. "Can't you just, like, _text_ each other or something?"

 

Bellamy rolls his eyes instead of bothering to come up with some kind of answer. Everyone knows that when it comes to him and Clarke, there's never an _easy_ answer.

 

At the end of their first month living together, they go out to celebrate their successful cohabitation, just the two of them. Somehow, it turns into another competition, because they're them. They choose a bar, and they give each other one hour to try to get as many free drinks out of strangers as they can.

 

That's when Bellamy realises there might be something horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

 

From the first person that approaches Clarke, he's _completely_ distracted. He ignores his targets _shamelessly,_ too focused on the way Clarke flips her hair and bats her lashes at the girl with the undercut, or the way the guy in the leather jacket leans in too close as he's saying something to her. The hour is _agonisingly_ long, and he practically rushes over the second it's up.

 

Clarke grins, raising her half-finished mojito at him. "Number six," she announces proudly. "I kind of hit it off with that girl in the boots. She bought me _two._ How'd you do?"

 

"Not as good," he says, deciding not to share that he'd only managed to get two drinks from eight people. It's his shittiest streak _ever._ "You win. Let's go eat."

 

He doesn't let himself think about it for the rest of the night, forcing himself to focus on their double cheeseburgers and the extra beer Clarke buys him as they're finishing off their apple pie slices.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Monty and Jasper text out the digital flyers on a Friday, the words _DO YOU LIKE FREE FOOD?_ printed giant and bold all across the centre.

 

_"No charge, folks!!!"_ Jasper writes. _"Just a bunch of free food and a questionnaire for ur trouble!! It would rly rly help Maya out a lot!!"_ They've all met Maya before, so it's no wonder why Jasper's so enthusiastic about it. He's basically a puppy all the time anyway, but he turns into a melted marshmallow whenever she's around.

 

_"They're having a lot of trouble finding people to do this study,"_ Monty adds. _"So, yeah, if you guys are down or if you know anyone who'd be interested, let us know!"_

 

"We gotta do it, Bellamy," Clarke says, waving her phone at him. "Free food!"

 

"I don't know," Bellamy says, glancing quickly over the flyer before returning his attention to the stove. "These academic studies usually limit the amount of food participants are offered."

 

"So it's more of a challenge," Clarke points out. "Come on. Bet I can get more academic study food than you."

 

He shakes his head, but he's already smiling. "Yeah, all right, fine. Sign us up."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The study takes place on a Thursday night. That evening, as he's changing out of his work clothes into something clean and casual, his phone chimes with a text alert from Miller: _What are you doin tonight?_

 

He picks up his phone to reply. _Doing that free food study with Clarke. You?_

 

_The one Monty and Jasper told us about?_ Miller writes back. _The one Maya's doing???_ _You guys are doing THAT study????????,,?_

 

_Yeah,_ he types back. _Why?_

 

There's an unusually long pause. So long that Bellamy drops his phone and goes back to what he was doing. He takes his phone and heads into the living room to wait for Clarke to get home, and it's only when he flops down onto the couch that a reply buzzes in.

 

_Nothing,_ Miller says. _You 2 have fun now!!_

 

"O-kay," Bellamy mutters to himself, drawing out the syllables as he frowns at his phone in confusion. Shrugging, he tosses his phone aside and grabs the TV remote.

 

"Raven's being creepy," Clarke reports as they're on the way to the study, her nose glued to her phone.

 

He glances over at her from the driver's seat. "What do you mean?"

 

She waves her other hand. "I told her we were going to that free food study, and she just started saying 'hahahahahaha'. Like, a _lot."_

 

"Ew," Bellamy says. Raven almost _never_ says "haha" in text. "Come to think of it, Miller was acting all weird too when I told him we were going."

 

"Huh." Clarke scrunches her nose. "Maybe they're just jealous that they didn't sign up for free food."

 

"Maybe," Bellamy agrees vaguely, too preoccupied with how goddamn adorable her face looks doing that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They follow Monty's directions to the science building of their old campus. From there, there are a series of simple signs tacked up on walls and doors to lead them to the right place.

 

Maya looks up from where she's sitting at a small table with a laptop, a small stack of papers and, weirdly enough, a small bowl of mints. "Hey, you guys came!" She sounds surprised.

 

He and Clarke exchange a bemused look. "Were we not supposed to?" he asks.

 

About three emotions cross Maya's face at once, her cheeks flushing hotly. "No, not—I mean, Jasper told me you guys were doing it, and I saw your names on the sign-up sheet, but I—you know, I just thought—"

 

Clarke smiles. "Yeah, we heard you guys were having a tough time recruiting subjects, so we decided to help you out. Plus, we're pretty much down for free food anytime, so."

 

Maya barks a laugh, but it comes out strained. "Yeah, we have been struggling with getting people to do it, but I didn't think—" Breaking off, she opens and closes her mouth. After an awkward beat, she thrusts a pen at them. "Here, why don't you guys sign on in?"

 

They each fill out a short release form that basically says they're in good medical condition and that they promise not to sue the school or the conductors of the study for any mishaps, and then they're led behind the desk down a short hallway.

 

"Now," Maya says, doing that thing people do where they pretend to look you in the eye but don't actually do it, "would you prefer to do the study together, or would you rather we split you up?"

 

"Oh," Bellamy says, glancing at Clarke. "Is this a teams thing?"

 

A small furrow appears between Maya's brows. "The study is conducted in pairs, yes."

 

"Oh, okay," Clarke says. "Well, then, yeah, we'll do it together." She snorts, nudging Bellamy's elbow with her own. "All the better to keep track of who's winning."

 

Maya looks like she's about to say something, and then she stops.

 

Bellamy frowns, the smile from Clarke's jest dissolving. "Is—is that okay?"

 

Maya starts suddenly, blinking at them with wide eyes. "Yeah, no, of course! Yes, that's _totally_ okay!" She leads them to the second door from the end of the hallway, a large number "4" printed out and taped to it. "Um, here's your room. The study should take about twenty to thirty minutes." She falters, staring at them both. "Thank you for your participation."

 

"Thanks," Bellamy says, smiling kindly at her. Poor girl looks like she could use a break.

 

Maya practically springs the door open for them, and then jumps back.

 

They look at each other the second the door is closed behind them. "What _is_ this study?" Clarke says.

 

"Maybe it's free food, but we have to kill each other for it," Bellamy suggests, glancing over the meagre apparatus in the room. It's small, and furnished with only two chairs placed facing each other less than two feet apart, and a tiny table next to them with a small basket of napkins and clean knives, forks and spoons laid out, two of each, like a very specific type of niche restaurant.

 

Clarke laughs. "Yeah, I'd clean you out with that spoon."

 

"I could probably suffocate you with a napkin," Bellamy offers.

 

"Give me six hours and I could probably saw right through your leg with that butter knife." She tilts her head. "Kind of weird that neither of us even thought about picking up the chair to bash each other's heads in—"

 

"Hi!"

 

With a jump, they both whirl around. A girl with mousy brown hair is standing in the room with them, having clearly just entered behind them. She's got a white blouse on and a baby pink cardigan over it, two clipboards in her hands and a plastic-looking smile on her face. There's a bright blue printed sticker on her shirt, declaring _Hi! My name is Keenan._

 

"My name is Keenan Mykulak," she says, her voice unnervingly perky. "Thank you for signing up for our study about different foods and their effects on kissing!"

 

Bellamy blinks, his brain still struggling to catch up with her general Barbie-ish demeanour. "Sorry, I—effects on _what?"_

 

Keenan steps towards them, extending a clipboard to each of them as she continues to smile her sunny smile. "Our study aims to explore the immediate effects of eating different foods on the sensations and level of enjoyment of a kiss. For each plate that we bring you, we would like you to consume a minimum of seven bites, and then, following a slight pause of no more than thirty seconds, proceed to engage in a kiss that involves at least one instance of tongue-to-tongue contact."

 

Bellamy chokes on air, but before he can look to Clarke for her reaction, Keenan's already moving on.

 

"There will be five plates of food in total," she says cheerily. "You will need to fill out the same three questions per plate: the first one before consuming the food, the second immediately after consuming the food and before the kiss commences, and the third immediately after disengaging from the kiss. If you happen to forget this sequence, clear instructions are printed on the questionnaires I've just handed you. Kisses may be conducted either sitting or standing, whichever's more comfortable for you both. Touching is up to your own prerogative, but we kindly ask that all clothes remain on." Bellamy chokes again, but Keenan's smile doesn't even falter. "Distilled water will be provided throughout the session, both for hygiene purposes and as a palate cleanser. A special antiseptic mouthwash will be served at the very end of the session to prevent the spread of any lingering bacteria. Do you have any questions?"

 

A thin silence drops over the room.

 

"Great!" Keenan says brightly. "We'll begin the session, then. Please take a seat and read through your instructions. Your first round will be delivered in just a moment."

 

With that, she spins neatly on her heel and disappears from the room.

 

"Oh my God," Bellamy mutters, dragging his fingers through his hair. "Oh my _God._ What the hell did Jasper sign us up for?!"

 

"Well, technically," Clarke says slowly, "we signed ourselves up."

 

"What?" He shakes his head. "Okay, never mind. There's probably still time for us to get out of it. When Keenan comes back in, we can tell her we changed our minds and—" He breaks off, noticing her pensive expression. "You look like you're thinking about this. Why do you look like you're thinking about this?"

 

She shrugs, lips pursed. "They're still giving us free food, Bellamy. It's just a few kisses."

 

"A few _kisses?"_ he echoes, incredulous. "Did you not hear her _very_ specific instructions about _tongue?!"_

 

She rolls her eyes. "It's just _kissing,_ Bellamy. Aren't you the guy who had threesomes in college?"

 

"I had _two_ threesomes in _sophomore_ year," he argues. "That's not—"

 

A firm knock sounds at the door, followed by a perfectly timed three-second wait, and then Keenan walks in. "Hi, you two!" she says. "Just bringing you some water to start you off. Your first plate will be delivered soon." She gestures to the chairs in a way that seems polite, but feels more like a command than a suggestion to Bellamy. "Please, take your seats."

 

Exchanging a quick look, they do as she says. The chairs are placed so close that their knees are practically brushing.

 

"Thank you!" Keenan says. She taps each of their clipboards with a perfectly manicured fingernail. "Please read through your instructions. I'll be back in a minute."

 

Once she's out of the room, Bellamy flashes Clarke a pained look. "Clarke. We're not _really_ doing this, are we?"

 

Clarke takes a deep breath. "Look, you heard Maya. They're having a hard time getting people to help them out. If we walk out of here right now, that's two persons' worth of data they're losing."

 

Bellamy cringes. Having to conduct these studies is always a bitch, especially for college kids like Maya and Keenan who desperately need the credit, so he _does_ feel bad about leaving them high and dry.

 

But _this…_

 

"It's just a few make outs, Bellamy," Clarke cajoles, nudging his foot with hers. "Come on. What's a bit of tongue between friends?"

 

He rolls his eyes, focusing all his energy on ignoring the weird thrill running up his ankle from that slight contact. If that's what her foot on his does to him, what the fuck is her _tongue_ gonna do when it meets his? Kill him?

 

He sighs. "I guess we're really doing this."

 

She grins, and picks up her clipboard. "Okay. Instructions, instructions. Exploring the immediate effects of blah blah blah… okay, here we are." She squints, raising the clipboard higher. "It says we need to grab a drink of water, and then… make out?"

 

Bellamy's heart thuds faster, his eyes already on their fifth pass over the same sentence she's evidently reading. "Yeah, so we can fill out the first set of control questions."

 

They drop their clipboards to their laps at the same time.

 

"Okay," Clarke says, and picks up both cups of water from the small table. Handing one to him, she clinks hers to his and grins. "Cheers."

 

His throat is dry, but he takes the smallest sip he can manage, suddenly irrationally afraid of spilling all down his front. They both set their cups back on the table, and look at each other.

 

"Ready?" Clarke asks.

 

He nods. "Ready."

 

They shift forward in their chairs at the same time.

 

"Ow," Clarke says as his knee knocks directly into hers.

 

"Jeez," Bellamy mutters, his foot throbbing slightly from where she'd stepped on it.

 

Their eyes meet.

 

Suddenly, Clarke dissolves into laughter.

 

"What are we _doing?"_ she says, smiling wide. "Why are we getting weird all of a sudden? It's just us."

 

Despite himself, he smiles too, the prickle under his skin easing slightly as he rakes a self-conscious hand through his hair. "You're right," he says, his shoulders relaxing. "It's just us. We can do this."

 

Clarke snorts, and then shifts her body so their legs are slotted comfortably together, her left knee slipping in between his. "Hold still," she says, one hand lifting from her lap to touch his jaw as she leans in. Her gaze flicks down to his mouth, and then back up to his eyes, a small smirk forming on her lips. "Or, you know. Don't."

 

He grins, abruptly finding himself unashamedly, unreservedly un-self-conscious—almost _giddily_ so. "Shut up and kiss me already."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Maya looks up as Keenan storms into the room they've been using for food prep, muttering to herself as she smooths her palms over her plain khaki skirt.

 

"Everything okay?" Maya asks. She's never particularly _liked_ Keenan, but the girl rarely ever lets herself look anything less than perfectly, perkily poised. She's like the human version of a light bulb, one that refuses to be switched off.

 

Keenan practically glares at her. "I _told_ Whitman we should have limited the study to individuals only! Allowing couples to participate together completely derails the entire point of the investigation!"

 

Maya frowns. They've had a grand total of six participants so far, four of them individuals paired up by Maya herself according to availability. The remaining two are none other than Bellamy and Clarke, and they're both still in the back, barely even halfway through the study. "Couples? What couples?"

 

Keenan huffs through her nose, hands planting themselves on her narrow hips. "Your friends back there! Something Blake and whatever Griffin."

 

Maya blinks. "Bellamy and Clarke? They're not—I mean, what's wrong with them?"

 

"You try asking them that," Keenan snaps. "Oh, but wait—you'd have to get their mouths surgically detached from each other first." Maya's cheeks flood pink, but Keenan doesn't even notice. She makes a sound of pure annoyance, somewhere between a growl and a groan. "I mean, do they even realise they're still technically _in public?_ The girl is _literally_ on the guy's lap!"

 

Maya chokes slightly, recovering just quickly enough to pass Keenan two small bowls of pineapple slices for the next course. "Oh. Wow. That's—"

 

_"Gross,"_ Keenan declares, pivoting sharply on her heel and walking back out the door.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"So."

 

_"So."_

 

Upon concluding with the study, they'd had a very brief but awkward exchange with Maya (who completely refused to meet their eyes) that let them know she knew _exactly_ what went on in that little room, and after an equally awkward goodbye, they'd ended up back in the car, sitting there with the doors closed and engine idling.

 

Bellamy looks over at Clarke. Her clothes are rumpled, her hair is mussed, her cheeks are flushed and her lips are _definitely_ swollen. _Fuck._ He hasn't caught sight of himself in a mirror yet, but he's pretty sure he looks no better.

 

They might as well have the words _WE JUST HAD A SUPER LONG MEGA INTENSE MAKEOUT SESSION_ stamped onto their foreheads.

 

"So," he repeats.

 

She glances at him. "Just say it, Bellamy."

 

He swallows. "We're, uh. We're not just friends, are we?"

 

"I'm gonna say no," she says. She tilts her head, pressing her lips together. "Or, at least… I hope not?"

 

"Okay," he says, his heart soaring out of his ribcage and into the skies. "Great. Me too."

 

They're both silent for a beat, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound to be heard.

 

He clears his throat. "So, just to clarify," he says. "Does that means we can—"

 

"Oh my God," Clarke says, turning her body towards him with a big grin. "Shut up and kiss me already."

 

They're both smiling as their mouths meet, which isn't ideal for optimum kiss comfort, but Clarke certainly doesn't seem to mind, her fingers scrunching into the front of his shirt to pull him even closer, and Bellamy thinks he could do this forever and probably never ever get sick of it.

 

An idle grin spreads across Clarke's face as they pull leisurely out of the campus parking lot, and Bellamy raises a brow. "What?"

 

"Nothing," she says, but the faux innocence in her voice is clearly an invitation.

 

_"What,"_ he laughs, one hand on the wheel as the other reaches out to take hers.

 

She grins and turns her palm to press against his, their fingers lacing together. "Just think what would've happened if Raven had agreed to come to this with me."

  


 

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts, feelings, opinions?? 
> 
> i'm also [on tumblr](http://scifibi.tumblr.com)!


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